Fledglings
by Ladyhawke 620
Summary: Story Six - Left alone with the kids on a camping trip gone horribly awry, String finds not only has the lost the kids, but that if he's not careful he may lose his life as well...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer - All original Airwolf characters are the property of Donald Belisarius and Universal, Nicky and Amelia belong to Rachel 500, whereas Roper is mine. I make no profit on their behalf, just enjoy visiting their universe from time to time. Okay, well, maybe I live in it, but don't tell anybody. _

* * *

Fledglings -

- 10 p.m. Saturday, June 14th -

The rain came down in sheets. Had been coming down in sheets for hours. Sitting there, drenched to the bone, rivulets of water running off his short, brown hair making it appear black, Stringfellow Hawke was more than ready for it to end.

The thought of taking the kids and going camping had seemed such a brilliant one two days ago. He and Cait would take them and head up to Bear Lake and do a little fishing and camp out near there with them.

Then they'd gotten a call about a charter flight up to Red Bluff for a business party. A bunch of young, up and coming female execs, they'd really wanted Caitlin more than they'd wanted him, and Hawke hadn't been exactly thrilled at the idea of two to three hours of chattering females in his ears. The job had been too good a one to turn down though.

Caitlin being the trooper she was, had volunteered to fly it. Though he'd guess if he were honest, the thought of hanging around a beautiful pool at someone body else's expense hadn't been bad either. He hadn't begrudged her the trip, figuring one of them better take the job, goodness knew there'd been few enough as of late, and at least she'd enjoy it. He figured he'd get to go fishing with the kids and that'd been enough. Of course, it hadn't turned out quite like that.

* * *

- 10 a.m. Friday, June 13th -

"You sure you'll be okay?" Cait asked, kissing her taciturn husband goodbye as she loaded the last of the supplies in the white jet ranger he was taking.

Hawke grinned at her. "You expecting a fish to eat me, Cait?" he teased. "It's just a fishing trip. The kids and I'll be fine."

Shoving aside the feeling of unease that'd been plaguing her since she got up that morning, she smiled back. "Well, it does involve you and a fishing trip. Mutant fish are a distinct possibility."

Hawke laughed. "Well then, make sure you pack your net in case I need you to fish me out."

"Very funny, String," she retorted, giving him a shove towards the helicopter. "Go on with you."

Reaching over, he gave her a quick kiss goodbye even as he climbed up into the jet ranger's cockpit. "Nicky! 'Melia!" he yelled. "Let's go!"

Lugging a backpack almost as big as he was, Nicky trotted across the tarmac towards the jet ranger. "Coming dad!" he yelled, his blue eyes glinting with excitement. Hot on his heels, his eight year old sister Amelia followed.

Grinning, Caitlin watched them hustle aboard, giving Amelia a boost up.

Ducking, she stepped back, shielding her eyes against the chopper's rotor wash, watching them go.

Expertly, Hawke levered the helicopter up, getting her airborne. It hung there suspended like a dragonfly in mid-air. Amelia pressed her nose up against the glass in the back and waved bye, enthusiastically, even as Hawke tossed up a hand in farewell to his pretty, red-headed wife.

Turning the helicopter on its own axis, Hawke headed north towards Bear Lake.

* * *

- 12 p.m. Friday, June 13th -

Trudging down the steep path towards the lake, Hawke paused to catch his breath and turned back to eye the kids trailing behind him. The sun warm on his back, he could feel his hair curling damply along his collar even as the wind picked up. Concerned blue eyes scanned the scudding clouds overhead, noting what looked like an approaching storm. "Come on guys," he encouraged, still watching the sky. "Hustle up. We need to get the tents pitched before that storm moves in." Dropping his gaze, he glanced along the path behind him to where the kids were.

Even as Hawke turned to look, Amelia stood at the edge of the step path, peering over the embankment.

Fear lighting his blue eyes, he yelled, " 'Melia! Get away from…"

The crumbling ground gave way beneath her feet. Stumbling, she staggered back, thrown off balance by the heavy backpack.

String lunged for her.

She wavered, wind milling her arms, catching herself. Triumphantly, she stepped back, flashing him a dimpled grin.

Hawke's hand closed around her arm, none to gently, fear making him rough, and adrenaline pumping through his veins. "What do you think you're…"

The weakened ground gave way beneath their combined weight, knocking String off his feet and taking the child with him. He slammed into the dry, rocky earth, the force of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs. Shearing, the edge gave way plummeting down the side of the mountain.

"Dad!" Nicky screamed, blue eyes wide with shock and fear. "Dad!"

Dropping the pack, he ran forward feeling the ground tremble beneath his feet. Throwing himself to the dirt, he frantically peered over the edge of the embankment, only craw fishing back when he felt a handful of dirt give way beneath his fingers. Aside from a rocky gash where the ledge had given way, there was no sign of them.

Terrified, Nicky scooted back, stopping only when his back hit the rock wall of the mountain behind him. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he sobbed great shuddering breaths of air. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

* * *

Dazedly, String raised a bruised hand to his forehead, his fingers coming away sticky. Drawing his finger tips away, he rubbed them together in puzzlement, trying to piece together his thoughts amongst the incessant pounding in his head.

Starting to push up into a sitting position, he placed his hand against the rough, rocky, orangish-brown shale-like ground. The moment his hand touched it, the memory of the rock slide came crashing back.

"Amelia!" he gasped, shoving up, his head reeling. Frantically, he looked around for the child, his vision blurring and stomach roiling. "Not now," he muttered, impatiently trying to tamp down the feeling. "Amelia!" he yelled again. "Where are you?"

There was no answer, save the distant chirping of some birds overhead. Rolling to his hands and knees, Hawke tried to push up to his feet, his left leg giving way beneath him almost instantly in stabbing, pulsing pain.

Groaning, he dropped to his forearms in the dirt, sweat creasing his forehead. How was he supposed to find her, when he couldn't even help himself?

Fighting back the nausea, he flopped over onto his back, breathing heavily. Overhead the sky was graying and the wind had picked up, flipping the leaves on the nearby trees upside down. His vision was no longer blurry, but there was no denying the storm was on its way.

* * *

Poolside at an elegant resort in San Joaquin, Caitlin O'Shaunessy Hawke sipped a rum punch and tried to concentrate on her book. The charter flight up with the lady execs from Murani Apparel had been uneventful, but pleasant. Excited about their expansion plans, and the chance to showcase their new designs as well as a weekend in San Joaquin, Sylvia and Vicktoria Murani had rambled on about the latest accessories and hemlines and shoes for two hours, including Cait in the conversation, only to then start on about Vicktoria's fiancé who was to meet them in a couple days and the upcoming wedding next month. Caitlin had had fun listening, but poor Hawke had definitely made the right choice in passing on the charter flight, she thought. She could just imagine him after a couple hours of their chatter. He'd a been ready to pitch the jet ranger into the nearest mountain.

She laughed softly to herself sipping her drink as she stretched languorously and wiggled newly pedicured bright pink toes. Still, she'd had a good time just listening. It was nice to see how the other half lived, and Santini Air with its overabundance of testosterone influenced pilots didn't afford much chance of it. Poor Jo would soon find that out, she thought ruefully.

Thinking of Hawke and the kids up at Bear Lake fishing and camping though, she felt a twinge of guilt. It had been supposed to be a family vacation and String had been so looking forward to down time with all of them. On his own with Nicky and Amelia he'd have his hands full.

Sipping the last of her drink, Cait sighed. She missed her unruly tribe, but undoubtedly they'd have a good time without her. She might as well make the most of her "luxury resort" weekend. It wasn't like she'd be getting another one any time soon.

"Caitlin!" an excited voice called. "Yoo-hoo! Cait!"

Turning swiftly, the red-head looked over her shoulder to find Sylvia Murani at the edge of the pool, flower-printed silk sarong tied low around her hips.

"Hey, Sylvia," she greeted her warmly. "What's up?"

"The buyers are here and they want a preview of the new line of dresses," the svelte brunette gushed frantically. "Our model's called in sick. Is there anyway I could talk you into subbing?"

Cait stared at her, trying not to look like a fish that'd flopped out of water onto dry land. "Subbing?" she asked, a fine frown creasing her forehead.

"Please? Oh, Cait, please!" Vicktoria implored, joining her sister. "You're just the right size and it'll be fun. I promise! Come on," the blonde dimpled her smile charmingly at her new friend.

Model the exclusive designs the Murani sisters were hoping to have picked up by the designer houses in New York? Her, everyday, ordinary Caitlin Hawke? Surely, she must've misheard, she thought.

"Come on, Caitlin," Sylvia wheedled. "I'll give you first pick on your favorite to keep when we're done."

Cait stopped gaping like a fish and grabbed her cover-up thinking of the beautiful evening dress she'd saved weeks for, for the rehearsal dinner a couple weeks back, hoping to impress Hawke and that had met such an unceremonious and quick end after one night out. How could she pass the opportunity up?

"Coming!" she exclaimed, as she hopped up, leaving her book poolside and forgotten on the lounger.

* * *

- 12:15 p.m. Friday, June 13th -

Sucking in a last heaving breath, Amelia Hawke clambered to her feet. The "ride" coming down the mountainside had been scary enough by itself, but the fact her daddy didn't wake up afterwards was a lot bigger deal to her.

Wiping filthy hands on her torn jeans, she tried one last time. "Daddy?" she whispered, poking him in the side. "Daddy, wake up."

There was no response from String, just a fresh streak of blood seeping down his hairline and across his cheek. Frowning petulantly, and biting her lip, Amelia tried not to think of the kid at school who'd fallen and bloodied his head and the ambulance had had to come and get. Mark had gotten stitches, but he'd been back a few days later regaling them all with tales of his ride in the ambulance.

Poking a cautious finger into String's hair, Amelia looked at her dad's gash and grimaced. She wasn't any good at sewing, and there weren't any ambulances out here.

"Daddy?" she whispered, shaking him. "Wake up. Please," there was a twinge of desperation to the words.

This time, she got a groan out of Hawke, but still the blue eyes remained stubbornly closed. She sighed. Nicky would know what to do. Unfortunately, he wasn't around to ask.

Shading her eyes against the shifting sun, Amelia eyed the rough hillside. Like a jagged scar, the path of their descent stuck out rocky and jumbled. There was no way she could climb back up that. The rest was pretty much sheer rock, no finger or footholds to be found.

And then she saw it. Just at the edge of the nearby woods, the rock face evened out, and a jumble of small bushes grew precariously up the side. A self-satisfied grin plastered itself across her face, as deep blue eyes lit up with inspiration. "I bet I could climb that though," she muttered, heading off for the makeshift climbing wall, solid determination in her short stride.

* * *

12:20 p.m. Friday, June 13th -

Sniffling softly to himself, Nicky rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. There was silence around him except for the chirping of some birds nearby and the wind picking up around him. He shivered, the fine sheen of sweat from the sun and the hike rapidly drying in the wind.

Think, Nicky, think! He commanded himself desperately. They couldn't have disappeared off the face of the earth. It was simply a matter of finding them.

Okay, what to do? Everything inside him said go and look over the edge, but he didn't think that was too good an idea. Look where that had gotten his dad after all. Despair welled up in him again, threatening tears. He faced it down angrily. He wasn't a baby, he couldn't be blubbering all over the place - somehow he had to do something.

Well, he'd looked. Not that it'd done him much good before, nearly getting pitched down the mountain with them. He needed help, he thought…but what if his dad and 'Melia were hurt, or…angrily he sucked up a sob. No, not going there, he told himself.

Fine, he'd help them. He knew first aid - at least some. He'd watched his mom bandage up his dad plenty of times, and he'd learned at camp. He could do this. He had to do this.

A fine frown marring his young features, he determinedly shifted the heavy pack on his shoulders and turned back in the direction of the jet ranger. It had a first aid kit, he'd just have to go get it. And then, he thought, swallowing hard, figure out how to get down the mountain and find his dad and sister.


	2. Chapter 2

- 1:00 p.m. Friday, June 13th -

Blinking, Stringfellow Hawke shielded his eyes from the sun, and suppressed a shiver at the persistent wind gust that hit him. Aside from that, he didn't move this time. He had a feeling he'd trailed in and out of consciousness at least once before, and he had no desire to repeat the trip.

Amelia was gone, there was no denying that. Though at least it gave him a perverse sort of hope. If she was well enough to be gone, obviously she'd survived the fall in better shape than he had. The catch would be finding her before she found something bigger to get herself into. Groaning, he admitted he didn't think he was up to much bigger today.

Questing fingers probed hi head, the squint and the flinch of pain unavoidable when he hit the knot on the back of his head. Tender and bruised, it still throbbed with relentless abandon, but it was no longer seeping blood, which was more than he could say for the gash on his forehead he'd brushed with his sleeve only to get it started again, trickling down his cheekbone. Man, he hurt all over, felt like somebody'd thrown him off a mountain. Ruefully, he chuckled holding his head as he did so, realizing that was exactly the case. Maybe he'd taken a larger crack to the head than he'd thought, finding humor in this, he mused dryly.

Carefully, he eased up, making no sudden moves. He might be feeling steadier this go around, but he figured there was no point pushing his luck either. Placing a hand up against the rock slope to steady himself, he looked around, scanning for any signs of Amelia.

Blue eyes skimming the rock ridgeline, he saw the fresh gash where the ground had given way. There was no way she'd gone back up that way. Squinting, he eyed the trail on either side of him. The smoother side meandered towards the lake and woods, easier and more inviting, while the side off to his right was rougher and pockmarked, covered with loose gravel and ankle-twisting holes. Definitely less inviting.

And then he spotted it - fresh scuff marks against a large rock and a child's size 1 shoe imprint. Found her! He thought, instantaneous relief coursing through his body, only to be replaced almost as instantly with dread as he realized which way he'd have to go to find her. Trust Amelia to take the hard way, he sighed.

* * *

Sucking in a deep breath, Cait slid the cream-colored, raw-silk shantung sheath on over her head, feeling it slide lovingly over her skin as it slithered over her curves. Wow, she thought. So this is what it means to have it fit like a glove, she thought her lips twitching in amusement at her reflection in the mirror, as Vicktoria hurriedly zipped the dress up the back. Hawke would've appreciated it.

"Oh wow, Cait," Vicktoria exclaimed. "It fits like it was made for you! If this doesn't knock the buyers dead, then nothing will."

Arching an eyebrow, Caitlin met her excited hazel eyes in the mirror with some humor. "Well, maybe just stun them, Vicktoria. They can't buy the dress if they're dead."

Vicktoria grinned. "You've got a point there." Reaching over she tugged on the bodice of the gown, aligning an infinitesimal wrinkle. "Okay, now all you have to do, is walk out there, do a nice easy slow turn, extend some leg - show off that hidden slit in the skirt - it's the details that sell the dress, and then saunter on back. I'll get the next dress ready while you're gone."

Sylvia bounced back into the room, a sexy, strappy pair of four inch heels in her hand. "Here Cait, slide these on. They're all waiting for you. Hurry,…"

"All?" Caitlin whispered, suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach. "Just how many is all, Sylvia? You do realize I have no modeling experience?"

The brunette dropped the heels to the floor, hustling her along. "Oh, maybe seven or so buyers, and their assistants. Just a few."

"Just a few," Cait repeated, meeting her eyes worriedly. "Promise?"

"Promise," Sylvia agreed readily, as Caitlin reached for the curtain.

Squaring her shoulders, she slid it aside and stepped out to face a roomful of about…thirty people, every eye trained on her. "Oh great, Cait girl," she muttered, plastering a smile on her face. Evidently, Sylvia and Vicktoria had a slightly different idea of what a few people meant than she did. Hoping she didn't manage to fall flat on her face, she strode out to show off the dress, crossing her fingers as she did so.

* * *

Scrambling up the rock face, Amelia grabbed a handful of Brittle Bush, stumbling and sliding as she went. Panting, she hung on, looking over her shoulder at the ground below. It was a mistake. Whimpering, she clung harder to the scraggly brush, her blue eyes filled with tears.

It was a long way down to the bottom. What if she fell? She wished Nicky was here. He was better at climbing than she was. Looking down again, she cried all the harder.

Daddy. She wanted her daddy. But even as she formed the thought, she knew that wasn't happening. If she wanted Daddy, she'd have to get the help this time.

Biting her lip, she slung her left hand up grappling for a finger hold and inching upward. Maybe, Nicky would know how to use the radio, since she wasn't allowed to touch it. She just hoped she could find Nicky when she got there.

* * *

Nicky swung up into the jet ranger, grabbing the first aid kit out from the back. Square and heavy, he knew he'd have to get rid of something in his pack to fit it in, and he'd have to have his hands free for the trip down. But what?

He'd camped enough with his dad to know it got cold up here, and you'd better have what you needed. String had supervised their packing of the backpacks pretty closely. There wasn't much extra.

Fishing through, he sighed. The only things he could see to get rid of were a spare set of clothes and a rain poncho. Not much, but it'd have to be enough. Yanking them out, he threw them into the co-pilot's seat, and reached for the radio.

* * *

- 1:15 p.m. Friday, June 13th -

Staggering upright, String tried once again to gain his feet, gingerly trying his weight on his injured leg. The pain was instantaneous and sharp. Biting back a groan, he acknowledged he wasn't going to be walking out of here on his own.

Balancing carefully on his good leg, he contemplated the distance to the tree line and back with narrowed eyes. Sighing, he realized even if he did find a decent walking stick, it'd take him forever just to get back to where he started. No, obviously that idea was a no go.

Limping awkwardly, he turned towards the rough and uneven trail Amelia had taken. Even as he took his first faltering steps, the rain began to fall in great, splattering drops around him.

* * *

- 4p.m. Friday, June 13th -

"Oh, Cait, you were great!" blonde-haired Vicktoria Murani exclaimed excitedly. "A real natural."

"And the buyers loved the dresses," her sister, Sylvia interjected jubilantly. "This could really start things rolling for us. I can't even begin to tell you how much we appreciate your help."

Blushing under their praise, Cait felt her earlier irritation with the sisters drain away. While it'd been a big group to her, it really wasn't any worse than doing stunts on a set had ever been - and at least they weren't filming your every move.

"Thanks, guys," she responded gratefully, glad nonetheless it was over. She didn't think she'd be taking up a modeling career any time soon.

Sliding back into her regular clothes, she started to help put away the dresses with the women.

"So, you decide?" Sylvia queried.

Startled, Cait just looked at her. "Decide what?" she asked.

"Which one," Vicktoria laughed. "Come on, you couldn't have forgotten already! We promised you one. So, which one will it be?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Come on, Caitlin. A deal's a deal," Sylvia said. "Besides, I've seen that husband of yours. He's positively yummy. Surely, there's one there that'd get his attention."

Glancing up from the dresses in her arms, Caitlin caught a glimpse of her irrepressible grin. She couldn't help quirking an eyebrow. String was yummy, huh? Oh, he'd love that, if only he knew. She'd probably never get him to take another all female charter flight - **ever**, if he heard that!

"Mmm, well," she grinned back. "When you put it that way, how can I pass up the offer?"

* * *

Slapping a tired, scratched hand to the top of the trail, Amelia Hawke scrambled to the top of the ridge. Several falls, scratched arms and scraped knees later, she wearily plopped down in the dirt on a tree root to catch her breath. Ahead of her, she could see the trail they'd traveled that morning, sloping downward to the lake. The trail to the jet ranger lay uphill.

Panting, she sank down on the trail. Sitting up here, the wind was colder and she couldn't help shivering. Twilight was starting to fall and here on the mountain it'd be dark soon.

A wolf howled in the distance, and she shuddered. Nicky might like them, but she didn't think she wanted to meet one. Where was he anyway? She thought crossly. The howl sounded closer this time and she didn't hesitate, scrambling to her feet, the yell coming without thought. "Nicky! NICKY!" Terrified, she pelted up the trail towards the jet ranger, tennis shoes slamming into the ground as she ran.

Yellow amber eyes appeared at the edge of the path, tongue lolling, ears perked forward. A dark gray she-wolf melted from the tree-lined shadows to sit momentarily along the trail, watching and listening. Sniffing the wind, she turned northward and trotted up the path, great paws leaving prints in the dirt as she went.

* * *

Sighing, Nicky dropped out of the jet ranger, landing with a thud on the dirt below. He'd packed the first aid kit, but had no luck raising anyone on the radio. Aside from that he didn't have any idea what to do, except for hiking down the mountain and finding his dad and his sister on his own.

Pulling his jacket closer around him against the biting wind, he shrugged on the heavy backpack once more and started down the mountain trail for the second time that day.

He'd gone maybe fifty yards when the sound of scrabbling steps up the path halted him where he stood. Abruptly, he froze even as a low growl filled his ears. Eyes widening in surprise, he recognized the sound turning towards it warily, even as an object hurtled out of the growing darkness, slamming into him so hard it knocked him to the ground. Frantically, he scrabbled to his knees, his heart in his throat, all he could think about the low, threatening growl of the mountain lion he'd heard.

He shoved up, fists clenched, heart pounding, raising dark blue eyes to face his attacker… only to find his sister.

"Amelia?" he asked, glancing around in confusion. "But what…what are you doing here?" he questioned, puzzlement evident in the blue gaze as he looked around, hunting the mountain lion he'd heard. Warily, he reached down to give her a hand up, even as he searched the shadows worriedly around them.

"Nicky," she breathed in relief, never as glad to see her brother as she was at this moment. Taking his hand, she let him hoist her to her feet.

Pulling his sister upright, ten year old Nicky wiped a grimy hand on his jeans in distaste. "Grief, Amelia," he said in disgust. "What've you been doing? Crawling in the dirt? Where's Dad?"

Insulted, Amelia narrowed her eyes at her brother, as she scrambled to her feet. "No, stupid. I've been playing with my dolls. What do 'ya think?" She shoved him angrily.

Staggering back a step, Nicky glared back at his sister, not appreciating the shove. "Where's Dad?" he asked impatiently, looking around. That mountain lion might still be around here somewhere and he'd feel a lot safer with his dad around.

She didn't answer.

Frustrated, he spun back to face her. "Where is he, 'Melia?" he queried.

Dropping her gaze, she looked down, not answering.

" 'Melia?" Nicky asked, frowning, a fissure of unease furling in his chest. "Where's Dad?"

Pained blue eyes raised to meet his. "I couldn't wake him, Nicky. I tried, and tried, but…"

Anger hot and unreasonable, coursed through Nicky. "And what?" he yelled. "You left him? Was he alive, Amelia? Did you check that?" he demanded, giving her a furious shove. "What were you thinking?"

For once, Amelia took her brother's temper without fighting back. Fat, hot tears rolled down her dirty cheeks and she sucked in a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, Nicky," she cried. "I'm sorry. I tried to wake him, and I didn't know what else to do."

Frustrated, Nicky ploughed his hands through his dark auburn hair, standing it on end. "Huh," he blew out on an abrupt sigh, walking away from her, irritably kicking a rock out of the path.

He paced the width of the trail, hunting for some wisdom before he turned back to face her.

She still stood there, her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembling. "I'm sorry, Nicky," she whispered.

And just as abruptly as it'd come, his anger was gone. "No, 'Melia," he sighed, pulling her close. "I'm sorry. I know you did the best you could." He held her for a long moment, before letting her go. "You think maybe, you can help me find him?" he asked quietly.

Blue eyes meeting his determinedly, she nodded. "Yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness settled in heavy and wet around the lone figure crouched along the exposed ridgeline. Exhaustion was evident in every lean, long line of his body. Too many hours and too many falls later, Hawke no longer had any real idea where he was and was too tired to care. The only overriding thought had long ago become find Amelia.

The evening winds whipped around him, cold and cutting, and he shivered knowing it was likely to get a lot colder before morning. Wearily, he leaned back against the rough rock trying to summon enough strength to struggle up again. Where was that kid anyway? He thought, praying he hadn't somehow missed he in the darkness.

Thoughts of Nicky encroached on his mind as he sat, and he pushed them away determinedly. Nicky should be safe on the main trail and he had the packs. He could go back to the 'copter and wait it out 'til help came. No, Nicky would be fine, he told himself, trying to beat back his doubts. Amelia on the other hand…

Heaving in a great breath, he pushed upright again, fingers gripping the uneven rock. "Amelia!" he yelled. "Where are you? Amelia!" The only answer he received was the wail of the wind and the lonely howl of a wolf.

* * *

"What was that?" eight-year old Amelia demanded, jumping in fear.

Tilting his head and listening, her ten-year old brother closed dark blue eyes as the sound echoed through the air around them. "It's just a wolf 'Melia," he said opening his eyes. "No big deal."

"They're pretty good hunters, aren't they?" she queried.

"Yeah," Nicky replied shrugging. "So what?"

"What if it decides to hunt us?"

Startled, her brother's gaze flew to her. "What do 'ya mean, hunt us?" he asked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. It hadn't. "Why would it hunt us?"

"Because it's hungry?" she asked.

Nicky just stared at her for a moment, before he finally laughed. "Yeah, right 'Melia." The sapphire blue eyes lit up alongside the half-grin that was so patently like String's.

"I mean it, Nicky," Amelia bit out petulantly. "It's not funny."

"No, I guess not," he conceded at last, but the blue eyes still twinkled devilishly.

The growl of a mountain lion split the air nearby. Nicky's amusement vanished instantly. "Get in the tent, 'Melia," he ordered, throwing a couple pieces of wood on the fire and eyeing the shadows warily.

"But Nick…"

"Do it, Amelia," he bit out, his voice the scared one this time. "And find me the hunting knife in the pack, just in case."

His sister clamped her mouth shut and started rifling the pack without another word.

* * *

Dawn shone pale and bright over the mountains, spreading thin fingers of light across the craggy rocks, slowly warming the chilled surfaces. Stiffly, Stringfellow Hawke tried to straighten his leg, easing cramped and cold muscles. Every bone in his body ached, he thought wearily. Shaking his head, he forced the remnants of sleep induced fog from his brain.

The low growl of a wolf snatched his wandering attention back to the present, making him realize how desperate the situation was quickly becoming. There was a good possibility if he didn't find the kids today, that none of them would survive this camping trip.

He knew he was borderline shocky between the cold, the fall and the lack of food and water. He could only pray Amelia had found someplace warm and safe to hole up for the night. The wolf's cry was a reminder the mountain wasn't too forgiving of those who crossed her.

Scraped fingers sought a handhold in the rock and started him up the final stretch to the top of the trail. He only hoped he'd find Amelia and Nicky when he got there. He wasn't real sure what he'd do if he didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

"You sure this will work?" Amelia asked her brother, eyeing him doubtfully.

"No," he said shortly. "But I don't have any better ideas. Do you?"

"No," she replied, her voice subdued.

Instantly, her brother was remorseful. She was just a little kid, he reminded himself - the two year age gap between them seeming huge in his eyes. "Look Amelia," he said with a sigh, as he tied the rope off to a nearby tree. "It might not work, but at the moment it's all I can come up with. And besides, maybe it will work," he said hopefully.

She nodded, not speaking.

Nicky frowned. She was trying, he knew. "You okay?" he asked.

She raised troubled blue eyes to meet his. "What if…" she trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

"What if, what?" Nicky asked tying the rope around his waist, as he eyed the sheer edge of the trail warily. He still couldn't believe he was going down that.

"What if…" she hesitated again.

Wrapping an extra shirt around his hand as protection against the rough rope, Nicky prodded, "Spit it out, 'Melia. We don't have time for this," his own fear making him impatient.

"What if he's dead?" she gulped, tears welling in her eyes. "Maybe, I should've stayed with Daddy, Nick. Maybe if he's dead, it's my fault!"

And there it was. The secret fear they'd both held. Appalled, Nicky stared at his sister. "No, Amelia!" he said fiercely. "Whatever happens, it's not your fault!"

"I shouldn't have been standing so close to the edge," she murmured.

"Yeah, well maybe not, but you didn't know it'd go like that," he retorted.

"He fell because of me, and then I left him, Nicky," Amelia whispered. "Even you said I shouldn't have left him."

Mentally, Nicky groaned. Man, he had a big mouth. "Yeah, well," he sighed. "I was wrong, 'Melia. It's not the first time. You went for help, there wasn't much else you could do.

Now, hold on to the end of that rope," he ordered, "and stay away from the edge."

Grabbing hold, she nodded determinedly as she watched her brother drop over the crumbling edge of the trail where she and String had fallen the day before.

* * *

Loading the last of her gear into the jet ranger alongside Sylvia Murani's, Caitlin Hawke looked at the pretty brunette worriedly. "You sure you don't want to catch a ride back with me?" she asked.

Dark green eyes sparkled laughingly. "Nah, Cait," she grinned. "I know the dresses will be safe with you. I'll pick them up from the hanger in a couple days."

"Alright, if you're sure," Caitlin murmured uneasily

"They'll be fine, Cait," Sylvia said reassuringly. "Besides, if I go now, how will I get a chance to know Mark's best man? He's almost as yummy as that hubby of yours."

Unable to help herself, Caitlin chuckled at the other's irrepressible spirit. "Okay, okay, you win," she laughed. "Your stuff will be waiting for you at Santini Air when you get back." Grabbing the handhold, she started to swing up into the pilot's seat of the jet ranger.

"Hey, Cait!" the brunette yelled, her skirt whipping around her long legs as Cait reached for the door.

"Yeah?" the red-head yelled back, quirking an eyebrow questioningly.

"Let me know how that hubby likes the dress!" she called, raising a slender hand in farewell.

Shaking her head, even as she could feel the heat climb in her cheeks, Caitlin laughed, yelling, "Clear!" She shut the door and kicked the rotors into motion.

Shielding her eyes against the wind, Sylvia Murani grinned, watching the helicopter go. She hoped the dress brought as much luck with her husband, as she'd brought them this weekend.

* * *

Turning the red, white and blue jet ranger towards home, Caitlin eagerly bumped the throttle upward. It'd been a great weekend, filled with lots of fun and the grown-up female fun she so seldom got at home, but she had to admit she'd missed String and the kids.

Fumbling, she flipped the radio switch. "Santini One, this is Santini Two. Do you read? Hawke, this is Caitlin, do you read?"

There was no response. She sighed. She knew it'd been pushing radio range to hope for a response this far out, but it hadn't kept her from hoping. "Can't blame a girl for trying," she muttered, pushing the cyclic forward and edging it on towards home and Van Nuys field.

* * *

Long, lean fingers grasping the gnarled juniper root overhead, Stringfellow Hawke hauled himself up over the lip of the rocky shelf the trail ran along. Erring well on the side of caution, he drug himself well away from the trail's edge before flopping down on his back, muscles aching and lungs burning.

A gentle wind whispered over the ledge, cooling and relaxing, and he closed his eyes for a minute to catch his breath. He couldn't think when he'd last been this tired and the pounding in his head was back, thudding in time with the pounding of his heart.

He knew he needed to push on, to find Amelia and Nicky, but he was so tired. What had begun as a sharp, stabbing pain in his left leg was now a general all over ache as his body fought to compensate for his injured leg. Surely, just a minute of rest wouldn't hurt, he thought, fighting the wave of dizzying exhaustion that swept over him. Numbly, he acknowledged it was shock and dehydration pulling him under, but he was just too tired to fight it any longer. He closed his eyes and oblivion reigned.

* * *

The sun was lower in the sky, when he awoke. A low, snarling growl roused him, dragging him back from the shadows. Fuzzily, he stirred, raking a hand across his face, feeling two days worth of stubble rasp against his hand.

The growling grew in menace, and he forced hazed blue eyes open, jolting awake in a burst of adrenaline. Maybe a dozen feet away a grey-black timberland wolf faced down a tawny, well-muscled mountain lion. The wolf's hackles were raised and her lips pulled back in a snarling grimace, but it was obvious the mountain lion was not backing down.

Slamming a hand to the ground, String backpedaled 'til he felt the rough rock at his back. From there he heaved himself to his feet, frantically hunting for a stick or a weapon with which to defend himself.

Fingers closed on a fist sized rock and he heaved it in the mountain lion's direction unthinkingly. Hitting its rear flank with a solid smack, the big cat faltered momentarily in surprise and pain. The wolf seeing her opportunity lunged, tearing for the cat's throat.

Hawke's fingers closed around another rock, as the air around him resounded with ferocious growls and snarls, the anguished yip as daggered claws raked a furred flank. Teeth grasping for a hold, the wolf locked onto the lion's throat as it fought to throw her free. One great tan paw came up between them, raking the wolf free of her hold at last.

Rearing on her haunches, the lithe cat sprang free, lunging into the thick woods. The wolf growled menacingly as though contemplating pursuit before turning towards Hawke.

One down, one to go he thought, knowing if she went after him, he didn't have a chance. His grip tightened around the chunk of boulder he held in anticipation, as she snarled at him, amber eyes glowing.

The next instant had him drawing in a stunned breath as she regarded him for a long moment before melting silently into the forest behind her.

String dropped the orange rock in frozen disbelief, before finally grabbling a hefty limb he'd somehow missed before on the ground. Leaning his weight heavily on it, he headed uphill and towards the helicopter. It was more than time for this camping trip to be over in his opinion.

* * *

An hour out of Van Nuys field, Caitlin tried the radio again. "Santini One, Santini One this is Santini Air Two - do you read? Hawke, this is Cait. How 'bout picking up?"

There was no response still. Frowning, she placed the handset back trying to ignore the fissure of unease that was trying to settle back in her shoulder blades. There could be lots of reasons String wasn't picking up.

He could be out on the water with the kids, the hand-held radio could've gotten dropped into the water, he might be back at Santini Air outside the hanger. Any number of things. "Righhh-ttt, Cait girl," she muttered to herself. "And you keep telling yourself that long enough, and you might even believe it."

Reaching forward she picked up the radio again, flipping channels and hoping Roper was where he'd said he'd be.

"Wolf cub, Wolf cub this is Santini Air Two. Roper, if you're there pick up."

* * *

Sprawled beneath the Stearman that seemed destined to become the bane of his existence, elbow deep in grease and fighting a nut that refused to be budged, the eldest Hawke son blew a sweaty, blonde-streaked strand out of his eyes. If somebody's told him a year ago, he'd be spending his day off wrestling with a cantankerous old plane decades older than he was, he'd have told them they were crazy. Now it was becoming routine, he thought ruefully.

The radio inside the Stearman squawked startling him. Wiping a grease in grimed hand on a rag, he reached for it.

"Wolf cub, Wolf cub, this is Santini Air Two. Do you read? Hey, Roper if you're there pick up."

Rolling his eyes, he picked up the handset. That call sign was something else he was going to have to do something about. Mike had gotten more than his money's worth of fun out of it at his expense and it was time he returned the favor.

"Yeah, Cait. This is Roper," he replied, pushing the button. "What's up?"

"Hey, Roper," she exclaimed, the relief almost palpable. "Is String there?"

"No… is he supposed to be?" The younger pilot asked, squinting sapphire blue eyes against the sun overhead. "I thought he was taking the kids camping up at Bear Lake."

"Yeah, he was," Cait replied. "But I would've thought they'd be back be now."

"Maybe, he got hung up," Roper said shrugging. "At any rate, I haven't heard from him."

"Oh," the comment was obviously disappointed.

"You want me to try and raise them?" her step-son asked. "You're still what, a half hour out from Van Nuys?"

"About that," she replied, shoving the cyclic and the throttle as far forward as they'd go. "Thanks, Roper. Let me know if you hear anything, okay?"

"Sure, Cait," he returned, signing off and flipping channels. He glanced at his stainless steel dive watch as he did so, frowning. Cait was right. It was right, it was getting late if String intended refueling the jet ranger before the aerial stunt in the morning.

"Great," he muttered. "Now she's got me doing it too." Repeatedly, he tried raising the other jet ranger to no avail, a crease furrowing deeper between his brows as he did so.

* * *

Slipping over the edge of the embankment, rope tightly clenched in his fists, Nicky headed down the slope to find his father. The rappelling thing was harder than it looked in the movies, he thought, scuffed grimy tennis shoes slipping on the uneven rock, slamming him shoulder first into the mountainside. Slowly, he made his jolting, uneven way down towards the bottom, trying hard not to knock anything else loose.

Finally daring to cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder, the boy dared to look down. Below him the bottom stretched away, yawing and limitless, but at least closer at hand.

The rope slid through his fingers, sliding across the shirt he'd torn and tied across his palms. It still bit into his flesh.

Reaching bottom, he landed with a solid thump as his sneakers hit. Dropping the rope, he shrugged feeling the ache in his shoulders. "Dad!" he yelled. "Dad, where are you?" anxiously he cast around for him. Nothing.

A frown of consternation furrowed his brow. "Thought you said, this was where you fell!" he yelled up to Amelia.

The reply back was indistinct, but sounded something like, "It was."

Sharp blue eyes glanced upward at the rock face, noting the fresh scars and gouges. Yeah, she was right, he grimaced. It was the same place - unfortunately, there was no sign of their dad.

"Great," he muttered depreciatingly, snatching up the rope with ill grace. Wrapping it around his waist, he started his clumsy climb back to the top.


	5. Chapter 5

- 7 p.m. Saturday, June 14th -

Slumped against a tree trunk in despair, the rain fell around him in torrents, soaking the underbrush, and seeping into Hawke's torn and filthy jeans. A hike and a fall down the mountain, he was definitely the worse for wear, but as the water streamed off his short, dark brown hair turning it black that was the least of his concerns.

Where were Nicky and Amelia? Surely, they couldn't have vanished off the face of the earth. Fear they'd met up with either the mountain lion or the wolf he'd encountered earlier drove him on.

Yelling 'til he was hoarse, he'd hunted. Determination blazed in the blue eyes still, despite the shudders and shivers that were beginning to rock his frame. He knew he was running out of time, they all were.

"Amelia! Nicky!" he yelled, leaning heavily against the tree trunk. "Where are you?"

* * *

"Hey, Nicky, do you hear that?" eight-year old Amelia cried, grabbing her brother's arm as he trudged alongside her.

"Hear what?" the older boy asked, never raising dejected blue eyes from the mud and muck that tugged and sucked at his sneakers,

"That!" Amelia cried excitedly. "Didn't you hear it that time, Nicky?"

Frowning, her brother halted, feeling the ooze of mud into his tennis shoes as it sank over their tops. "Hear what, 'Melia?" he scowled. "There's nothing to hear. It's just us."

Troubled blue eyes met his. "You didn't hear it?"

Nicky sighed, despair weighing heavily on his thin shoulders. "No, 'Melia. I didn't hear anything. I wish I had." He reached for her hand. "Come on, we need to get out of this rain." Tugging, he pulled her in the direction of the helicopter.

Uneasily, she glanced at the shadows around them, her blue eyes uncertain. "But…"

"Enough!" Nicky yelled, frustration getting the better of him. "Dad's not here, Amelia! If he were, we'd have found him!" Snatching her hand, he yanked her in the direction of the helicopter.

Crying, Amelia stumbled nearly falling.

A dark, wet shape stepped out of the woods, solidifying out of the shadows. Advancing slowly on them, a low snarling growl deep in its throat, it snatched Nicky's startled gaze to it.

Beside him, Amelia whimpered. "Don't let it eat me, Nicky!"

Shoving his sister behind him, Nicky backed up, his heart in his throat. "Slow," he whispered. "Slow, 'Melia. Just keep backing up. Whatever you do, don't run."

Behind him, Amelia drew a sobbing breath, her hand trembling in his.

"I mean it, Amelia," he ordered, his own voice trembling. "Don't you dare run."

" 'Kay," she murmured a little tearfully.

Hustling her backward, he urged her through the trees, mindful only of getting away. Stumbling, staggering backwards he tripped over tree roots, his eyes only on the wolf that slowly stalked after them.

* * *

Whirling at the sharp report of a twig snapping almost underfoot String stumbled, catching himself against a wet tree trunk to keep from going down. Sapphire blue eyes widen in shock and surprise at the sight before him.

"Nicky," he breathed, the sound little more than a whisper. "Amelia…"

Even as he whispered her name, Amelia spun, her own eyes wide. "Daddy!" Wrenching her hand free of Nicky's grip, she ran for him.

Desperate, Nicky lunged for her, his own eyes never leaving the wolf. "No, 'Melia, no!" he cried. Floundering he missed his footing, going down…

…only to have strong, square-tipped hands catch him, hauling him close. "Nicky," String rasped, his own voice hoarse with emotion as he caught his son to him. Amelia already hung around his waist, her arms clamped around him in a stranglehold.

"Dad?" the boy asked in stunned disbelief. The blue eyes widened in shock. "Dad!" crying his name, Nicky threw himself at String, the onslaught of his sudden weight against Hawke's precarious balance slamming the all to the ground.

Dripping wet, covered in kids and mud String couldn't have cared less. Nicky's arms choking him in a stranglehold, he wasn't even sure he needed to breathe anymore. "Thank God," he whispered, hanging onto his son and Amelia. "I thought I'd never find you," he muttered, his voice husky.

In the distance a wolf howled.

Memory of the wolf slammed into Nicky, sending him frantically clawing his way out of String's arms. Turning over his shoulder, expecting to face the onslaught of sharp teeth and hot breath any second, he scrambled to his feet.

"Nicky?" String demanded. "Nick, what's wrong?"

Oblivious, his son tore loose, his fists clenching and chin coming up defiantly.

"Nick?" String pushed free of Amelia sensing the defensive set of his son's stance. Shoving the girl behind him, even as he struggled to his own feet, he rose. Wavering slightly on his feet, String cast about for whatever had set his son off, his blue eyes questioning.

So far as he could tell, there was nothing.

Reaching out, he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "What is it son?" he asked.

The boy turned perplexed blue eyes to meet him. "There was a wolf, Dad."

"A wolf?" String queried, his eyes abruptly flashing to the woods. "Where?"

"Behind us," the boy answered. " 'Melia and I were trying to get away from it, when we found you."

Frowning, Hawke looked at his son and the woods around them. There was no sign of Nicky's wolf. He sighed. "You sure you didn't make a mistake…" he began.

"No!" the boy cried. "It was here."

Amelia nodded emphatically. "It was Daddy, promise!"

String raised his head, the blue eyes icy and narrowed as he perused the woods around them. "Well, it appears to be gone," he said at long last. "Just as well. How 'bout we head back to the 'copter, guys?"

Happily Amelia nodded, not letting go of his hand. Sliding a last cautious glance around the small clearing, Nicky wrapped his arm around his father's waist taking part of his weight as they made their uneven, limping way back to the helicopter.

In the shadows, an amber-eyed wolf waited, poised on her haunches as they went. A low whimper whispered on the wind as she watched them go.


	6. Chapter 6

Standing in front of the Santini Air hanger, Stringfellow Roper eyed the red, white and blue jet ranger as it flared overhead, settling heavily on the tarmac in front. Ducking the sweep of the rotors, the tawny-haired pilot ran out to greet Caitlin.

Swinging the door open, his worried eyes met hers.

"Anything?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head. "Nothing."

Squeezing her eyes shut in pain, Cait bowed her head for a long moment. "They should be back by now, Roper," she whispered.

"I know Cait," he murmured. "What do you want me to do?"

"Come with me," she said earnestly. "I know it may be nothing, but…"

"…but then again it might be something," he finished.

She nodded, her blue-green eyes troubled.

"Well," he shrugged, giving her a wry grin, "let's go get the Lady."

* * *

The trip out to the Lair was torment, Caitlin alternatively wishing they'd just taken the jet ranger and headed out to Bear Lake, and praying to have the Lady. It was a foregone conclusion now though, she thought ruefully, it'd be the Lady who was doing the hunting tonight. Darkness had since fallen, cloaking the rocky outcroppings as they picked their way through the Valley of the Gods to where Airwolf was hidden. The achingly beautiful desolation was treacherous at night, requiring her full attention in the jet ranger, not leaving a lot of time for much else.

It was just as well. Roper had tried repeatedly to raise String's chopper on the radio to no avail. There had been no response. Neither one had said it, but both knew it did not bode well.

Long overdue and growing later by the minute, the storm that had flirted with the edges of radar had moved in. Though rare in this area, heavy rains were not unusual up near Bear Lake, and radar imaging was showing a large storm system up that way.

Uneasily, Caitlin wove between the rocky outcroppings as she approached the Lair. Ahead of her, it rose up massive and monolithic, seemingly solid and impenetrable. Appearances could be deceiving.

Hollowed out from the rock, a cave-like entrance opened up ahead, a chasm of yawning darkness. It was nothing compared to the narrow vertical chasm she'd have to guide the Lady out of. There was a reason String and Saint John had named the place the Devil's Chimney as kids. At the moment, all she could think of was her unholy dread for the task that lay ahead of her, easing the Lady up out of the narrow confines of her Lair into the night sky.

A challenge in the daylight, she prayed she'd be able to do it in the dark. Not only might Hawke's life and the kids depend on her ability and String's long ago lessons, but hers and Roper's would be depending on them as well.

* * *

The wind and the rain had picked up, slowing their limping progress. String was noticeably shivering now, moving forward solely on sheer determination now, and Nicky saw it. Even Amelia had ceased her endless chatter and grimly pushed forward trying to help take the brunt of their stumbling pace, her petulance replaced with a dogged determination.

And it was a good thing, Nicky thought staggering under String's weight as he stumbled. They'd need all the help they could get to make it back to the helicopter.

Out of the darkness, a feral yowl grabbed the boy's attention, swinging the blue eyes up with sudden fear. Beside him, String abruptly straightened, swaying uncertainly as he shoved the kids behind him. Almost unconsciously, he reached for the .45 at the back of his waist, realizing belatedly it still sat in the jet ranger.

"Get back!" he yelled at the kids. "Get back!"

Neither child budged. 'Melia clung to String's arm, blue eyes wide and terrified. Nicky didn't feel a lot braver, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he couldn't breath, but he knew his dad was in no shape to face down this threat alone.

"Get to the ridge behind me," String ordered. "Stay together and don't turn your backs on it. Nicky, if you see a big stick grab it."

"No, Daddy! No!" 'Melia sobbed, clinging desperately to his arm.

The mountain lion crouched, tail twitching, rear legs poised, it's ears back.

Body and head low to the ground, it poised ready to attack. The eyes were intent, waiting.

"Now, Amelia!" Hawke bit out, turning to glare at her momentarily. "I mean it." It proved a fatal mistake.

Even as he turned to glare at her, to issue the command to go, the mountain lion leapt, bounding across the distance between them, launching itself at the trio. Amelia screamed, stumbling and hitting the ground, scrabbling backwards. Hawke caught the full force of the blow, going down beneath it, the animal's weight slamming him to the ground as sharp teeth lunged for his throat and neck.

They closed around his arm instead, dagger like teeth ripping flesh and material alike, shredding the jacket in an instant. Desperately, String tried to throw the animal off, as he fought feeling his strength ebb with a ferocity that terrified him. If he went down, who would protect Amelia and Nicky?

Struggling, he fought the animal, searing pain ripping through his arm and shoulder.

Staring in horrified fascination, Nicky watched the muscular cat take his father down, the great paws landing on his chest as it hit, teeth drawn back in a snarl. Amelia's scream rang in his ears.

Sense finally came to him. "The knife, Nicky, the knife!" she screamed, gaining her feet.

Frantically, his fingers closed over the forgotten knife in his jeans pocket, snatching it out.

An unearthly howl filled the air, splitting the air around him. Startled, Nicky glanced up cringing, even as the cat froze momentarily in its attack. Amelia didn't hesitate, grabbing the heavy branch at her feet, swinging it with all her might at the cat.

Bemused at this sudden attack, the cat turned on her snarling. Tension radiated from it as its lips pulled back in an angry snarl, muscles bunching. Crouching it prepared to launch itself at her as well.

Realizing the mountain lion was about to go after 'Melia, Nicky shoved past, praying even as he brought the knife down in a stabbing arc. The blade creased the honey-colored hide, drawing blood even as Amelia drew back for another blow.

Drawing on the last of his strength, Hawke shoved against the cat, throwing it free. Suddenly faced with an unwilling prey, the sharp bite of the knife, and Amelia's determined defense, the cat backed off warily, before finally turning tail and stalking angrily back into the shadows.

Breathing hard, Nicky watched the cat go, his blue eyes hard, his hand and knife covered in blood - his, Hawke's and the cat's.

* * *

Overhead, Airwolf swept over the mountainside her scanners picking up a lone wolf on the mountain below, but not much else. "Anything?" Cait asked Roper, frustration edging her voice.

He sighed. "Not really, Cait, but this terrains so rocky we could pass right over them and not see them."

"How 'bout thermals?" the red-head asked.

"Not much to pick up," the younger man replied. "A wolf, some deer back a ways. That's pretty much it."

She sighed. "They've got to be here somewhere. How about the helicopter, any sign of it?"

"Not yet," Roper replied, worried blue eyes peering at her from beneath his helmet. "Any ideas?"

Sighing, Caitlin shook her head. "No,…not really. I just can't imagine where they might be. See if you can find any likely clearings Hawke might've landed the jet ranger in."

String's son nodded, fingers clattering across the computer keyboard. "Hey, I've got something here," he exclaimed after a moment. "Small clearing near the top of the next mountain, pretty wide trail leading down to the lake…It's the jet ranger, Cait!" he announced triumphantly watching the I.D. pop up on the screen.

"Any sign of String or the kids?" she demanded, swooping the Lady low over the tree tops.

"Don't see them. Maybe, they headed down towards the lake?"

Cait frowned, the searchlights flickering across the glossy white sides of the second Santini Air jet ranger. "Maybe. Find me a place to set down, Roper." She paused, "and make it fast."

* * *

Flinging down the stick, Amelia threw herself down beside her father, her sobs grief-stricken as she took in the bloodied jacket and arms. Dazedly, String reached for her, brushing away her tears with the back of his hand. "Shh-hh. Shh-hh, 'Melia," he whispered, his voice slurred in pain. "It's okay, baby."

Amelia turned tear-laden eyes on her brother. "Do something, Nicky," she pleaded desperately. "He's hurt!"

The knife dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Nicky dropped beside it, trembling hands fumbling with the pack as he dug for the first aid kit.

* * *

- 10 p.m. Saturday, June 14th -

The rain came down in sheets. Had been coming down in sheets for hours. Sitting there, slumped against the rocky overhang, drenched to the bone, rivulets of water running off his dark brown hair, Stringfellow Hawke was more than ready for it to end.

Fitfully, Nicky and Amelia slumbered beside him in relative shelter, tucked up against the overhang. The chopper would've been better, drier, but Hawke lacked the strength to make the trek and dare not send them on alone. Not that they would've necessarily listened.

Shivering feverishly, and fighting sleep, Hawke dozed, Nicky's knife in hand, waiting for help. He wasn't sure what kind of fight he'd be able to put up, but he'd be damned if anything would take his kids.

Wonderingly, he looked down at the two grimy urchins beside him. Tousled braids tangled around her, Amelia slept with her hand clasped around the same heavy branch she'd used to fight the cat off. Nicky slept in front of her his hand on her back, an unconscious barrier of protection between her and anything that might threaten. Instinctively, Hawke recognized the action of that of a soldier protecting that which was his, that which he loved.

It made him proud, at the same time it clutched at his heart. When had Nicky gone from little boy to protector? The frightening part was Amelia was right behind him.

He had no illusions, he owed his life to his son and daughter. If Amelia hadn't stepped in when she had, he would've gone down and if Nicky hadn't sprung to her defense, her life would've been forfeit for his.

The thought sobered him, hurt him. Never would he have wanted them to sacrifice their lives for his. Yet despite it all, it didn't diminish the fierce pride he felt at their bravery or their actions.

Remorse filled him at the thought of Dom raising him and Saint John all those years ago, and all the uneasy times they must've given him. Him especially after he'd come back from 'Nam without Sinj. He knew he'd been a handful with the dark demons that'd driven him over all the years. Dom had never complained, though looking back he knew he must've kept him awake plenty of nights. "I wish you could've known them, Dom," he whispered. "You would've been so proud. I know I am."

Wandering, his thoughts trailed to his other son, Roper. He couldn't claim any credit there, for the man he'd become - that was all Sam and Nhi Huong, but he owed them a debt he could never repay. Sorrow and regret rose up for all the lost years with his oldest son, even as he acknowledged Nhi had made the right choice in choosing Sam over him as the boy's father all those years ago. She'd known what he hadn't about what his quest to find Saint John would cost, and had taken the necessary steps to care for and raise their son.

He might mourn the loss her death and Sam's had caused his son, but he'd never regret the opportunity she'd given him in the end to get to know the man he'd become. He hoped the boy wouldn't either.

A twig cracked underfoot, snatching his gaze upward. Stepping out of the woods, flashlight in hand came Caitlin with Roper at her heels.

String couldn't help the weary smile that lit his features at the sight of them. Maybe there was still hope that this camping trip might turn out alright after all. Loyal, beautiful Cait his guardian angel rushing in where others would fear to tread, all to save his sorry rear once again. And Roper was right there with her. Yeah, Nhi Huong had given him quite a blessing, he mused. He only wished he could've thanked her.

"String!" Cait cried, catching sight of him across the clearing, loping into a run to him.

At the sound of her voice, String struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the rock face as the kids stirred beside him. "Mom?" Nicky mumbled sleepily, as Amelia roused next to him.

An angry yowl echoed off the rocks overhead, as roughly a hundred pounds or so of mountain lion hurtled out of the brush towards Caitlin. Armed only with a flashlight, she hurriedly backed up as the cat landed yards away.

"Cait!" String yelled, sensing the danger and unable to do anything about it.

Ears laid back and tail twitching, the big cat crouched between the two of them, steadily advancing on Caitlin. Gathering itself on it's haunches, the animal launched itself at Cait, even as String clumsily lunged for her.

A shot rang out abruptly across the clearing, causing Hawke to flinch involuntarily, even as he registered it. It dropped the big cat in mid-air, its body slamming to the ground in front of Cait still twitching.

Wide-eyed, she stared at it stunned, and then Roper and Hawke. Swallowing hard, she skirted the animal and rushed to Hawke, her focus immediately back on him. Blue-green eyes took in the fresh scratches and clumsily bandaged arms and she drew up short.

Glancing back at the mountain lion, she paused mid-stride and whispered, "I guess I don't have to ask what happened to you this time, huh?"

"No," he answered quietly, with a deep breath. "I guess not." A scraped hand came up to reverently brush her cheek. "You okay?" he asked huskily.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Better than you, from the looks of it."

"Hey," he said wryly. "I had the best first-aid a ten year old could provide."

"Oh, is that what you call it?" she retorted with a grin, hugging him. "I'm glad you explained. I might not have known otherwise."

Blue eyes crinkling, Hawke reached down and pulled his two youngest to their feet, carefully avoiding Nicky's bandaged hand. "Nick and Amelia did a bang-up job of taking care of me, didn't you guys?" he commented.

Amelia yawned wearily, before her blue eyes widened and she took in Cait. "Mommy!" she yelled, flinging herself at the red-haired pilot. "You came!"

Bemused at the overly enthusiastic welcome Cait caught her, smoothing her daughter's hair. Looking at String, she mouthed the words, Is there something I should know?

He merely shrugged, and gave her a lopsided grin in answer.

Nicky leaned against his father in silence his injured hand loose at his side, even as Roper loped up to join them. The younger man met his eyes with a worried look as he eyed Hawke's bandaged arms and wavering stance. "You okay, String?" he asked, placing his hand on the older pilot's shoulder in concern.

Glancing at his oldest son, String locked gazes with him, knowing where the shot had come from and what he owed him. "I am now," he said quietly, the blue eyes flaring momentarily before he gave him a brief, hard hug.

Awkwardly, Roper returned the hug, his own grip tight before he let him go. The loss of Nhi Huong and his stepfather was still fresh in his mind, and he knew how differently this could've turned out. "Glad to hear it," he murmured huskily, before looking away awkwardly, uneasy with the display of emotion.

After a moment, he gained control of his emotions and gripping String's shoulder he teasingly said, "Well, if you guys are okay then, how 'bout we see about getting down off this mountain and home?" Even as he spoke the words, a thought occurred and the half-grin that appeared was wicked. "Unless of course, you guys aren't done fishing."

String quirked a dark brow at him, before giving a derisive snort, his own amusement slipping out. "Oh, no!" he laughed as he wrapped his arms around Cait's waist and pulled her close, planting a thankful kiss in her hair. "This vacation is most definitely over."


	7. Chapter 7

Seated on the dock, the last strains of a Prokofiev melody dying away in the early morning air, the orange glow of sunrise peeking over the mountains, String looked over at his wife, Caitlin and his son, Roper sharing a cup of coffee and laughing together. An almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he watched the two of them.

Setting aside the bow, his hand slid lovingly down the length of the neck of the Stradivarius cello he held, as he contemplated the two of them. Dom had been right all those years ago, he'd been more blessed than he'd ever known.

Roper said something and Cait's melodic laughter rang out, even as she raised her head and the blue-green eyes met his. Abruptly a lump filled his throat. How had Dom seen so clearly, what he'd missed all those years ago? He wondered.

"Hey, String," Roper called, setting aside his cup of coffee, the wind off the lake rifling his hair. "You going to join us, or what?"

The sound of running feet and shrieking laughter caused him to turn his head to look at the kids, before looking back at his son. Behind him, a splash resounded as Amelia shoved Nicky off the dock and into the water. String could hear the boy come up spluttering and yelling.

"Or what," he answered with a grin, as he picked up the bow again and drew it across the strings, the scars on his arms from the ill-fated camping trip already fading, like the ones on his heart.


End file.
